You’re that sick person.
“Hospice. You know you hear words;
didn’t have a clue what to do with me.
then when it is happening you don’t have
they had me on 28 pills a day and I was
you have an idea of what they are. And
a clue what hospice is. It’s just a word. And
now all of a sudden this word has meaning
and you look around and you think, a sick
person must live here. And then it dawns
on you that you’re that sick person.
Sometimes I wonder what I have to look
forward to. And the more I think on that,
the more it draws me to what it was. As a
They started to give me medication and
introduced to shock treatment. Nothing
terrified me more than that. And I would
hang in the back and the paint on the
walls would seem to bubble up and there
would be insects and snakes crawling underneath the paint. And I think where my
head is now; I have come so far.
Art is like the giver of life for me. To
child I had nothing. And I had to make my
look at something and then to draw it, it’s
having anything I would purloin things from
it makes you feel more whole and more
life work, ‘cos I was kept in the attic. And not
the school. And in time I had paintbrush-
es, scraps of paper. Art would take me to
Oh I tried to tell people that things
weren’t right at my place, but nobody
listened. By the fourth foster home they
like becoming one with the object and
whole. Throughout my entire existence
I enjoyed going to that place of peace.
And I wonder about people who never
ever know high peace and I felt lucky that
I knew, little old nobody me could get
When I met Jenn